


Trust Me

by camichats



Series: Imagine James and Sirius Prompts [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Sirius has decided to run away when James drops into the floor of his tower, and, well, he's not going to turn down help, even if it wasn't exactly offered.





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Hey there :) if you've seen Tangled (and liked it), would you consider doing a Tangled!AU with Sirius as Rapunzel (since he's the one who ran away, and Walburga would do a great Mother Gothel) and James as Flynn? I hope I'm not asking too much... Thanks! ~AJ"
> 
> Sirius’s hair only goes to the floor, and Walburga’s a witch who is responsible for Sirius’s magical hair.
> 
> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://imaginejamesandsirius.tumblr.com/post/163803006075/hey-there-if-youve-seen-tangled-and-liked)

Sirius watched Walburga leave out the window that served as her doorway for the umpteenth time. He’d asked to leave again, and she’d gotten mad. Furious, really, and it left Sirius wondering why he couldn’t be happy with what he had. It quelled his immediate desire to leave, and certainly the idea of asking again soon. Yet he still wanted to go. It wasn’t something he could shake, deep-set in his bones like an itch that wouldn’t lessen no matter what he tried.

He sighed, turning back to his room and assessing what he could do with his time today. He could reread one of the five books he had. Paint, maybe, but he’d have to cover something that was already up if he wanted to do that.

He wanted to be on the ground, in the grass, the river, one of the trees… He closed the window/door and took down his hair. Brushing it took half an hour, and then he would clean. Again. Sirius idly wondered how often regular people cleaned. Walburga said they were content to live in filth, and Sirius could certainly see why if they had other things to do. The only reason he cleaned three times a day was because there was little else he _could_ do. He would trade cleanliness for the ability to go outside in a heartbeat.

* * *

Walburga left again. Sirius watched her walk away, arms propped on the sill, and waved when she turned around to look at him. He knew she only wanted what was best for him but sometimes… sometimes he wished she didn’t care so much. He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. Wishing he could make terrible mistakes? What was he thinking?

He cleaned, read, thought about painting, brushed his hair, cleaned, ate, cleaned.

* * *

Walburga visited. She left.

He cleaned, rearranged the dishes, opened the skylight, ate, brushed his hair, cleaned.

* * *

Walburga visited and left, kissing one of his cheeks leaving the slightest of red smears from her lips before she departed. He stared at the smudge in the mirror, wishing she would come back. She didn’t; she only visited once a day. Always had. He cleaned his face, cleaned the room, then sat in the windowsill and stared at where Walburga always appeared. Sirius felt so lonely he could choke.

A few hours later he got up, ate, brushed his hair, cleaned, then sat back in the opening.

* * *

Wake up, eat, clean, wait for Walburga, rearrange the room, clean, eat, wait for Walburga, try to get her to stay longer, mope, eat, clean. That night he climbed out of the skylight and laid on the roof to look at the stars.

Walburga had shown him all the constellations when he was younger, telling him stories of how they came to be and why she had named him after the brightest star in the sky. “You’re my bright baby boy, Sirius, and you live in this tower to be like that star,” she said, Sirius young enough to stare at the white speck with wide eyes and feel important, “untouched by the wretched people below and still shining brightly.” Sirius had thought that was a little silly. What was the point of being bright if no one could see you? But when he said that, Walburga had replied, “I see you, isn’t that enough? Besides,” she ran a hand through his hair, “out there, people would take advantage of your gift.” He later thought that _she_ was the one taking advantage of his gift, but he was smart enough to know he shouldn’t say it.

The night was warm in an endlessly pleasant way. His hand was held above him, tracing the shapes he had long since memorised. He stayed out on the roof until the sky started to light and waited until he could see the sun through the tips of the trees.

He wasn’t tired, but he went to bed. It’s not like it mattered what he did. What would it effect? He has plenty of candles and Walburga was loud enough to wake him while she made her way up to him if he slept too late.

In all honesty, Sirius doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. For all that she called him star, treasure, and ‘my bright boy’, Walburga didn’t seem to like him very much, and she was the only human contact Sirius had.

* * *

Sirius was more nervous than he’d ever been-- not that he had much cause to be nervous in his everyday life. If he was lucky, Walburga wouldn’t notice that he was lying, and if he was very _very_ lucky, she wouldn’t know he had left until he could get far enough away to not have to return.

Walburga was sitting behind him, brushing his hair, though she hadn’t yet asked him to sing. “Your birthday is coming up, my dear. What would you like?”

_This is it, don’t act suspicious_. “Paint? From those white seashells near the Great Lake?”

“That’s a long trip Sirius, near three days one way.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It makes a clear colour, though, one I can’t get anywhere else.”

Walburga sighed. “Fine. If it will make you happy, I will get the white seashells.” She didn’t sound too pleased about it, but she agreed, and that was what was important. “Sing for me, my sweet?”

Sirius started to sing, trying to make his voice even to not give anything away. When he was done, Walburga looked healthier, her cheeks were flushed and there were less wrinkles around her eyes. He wondered how old she really was.

Sirius waved goodbye to her like always, trying not to show his excitement. He’d packed as much as he could beforehand, but there were some items Walburga would have noticed were missing. He bounced around the room, gathering food, too distracted to hear the tell-tale sounds that meant someone was climbing the tower.

He startled violently when he heard something heavy thud behind him, making a pan fall to the floor and nearly crush his toes. He picked it up and spun around, gripping the handle with whitened knuckles.

It was a person. A person who wasn’t Walburga. Face down on his floor. Sirius cautiously walked towards him-- at least they looked like how Sirius imagined another ‘him’ would look-- and poked the man’s arm with his foot. When he looked up, Sirius jumped back with a squeak, holding the pan in front of him like a weapon.

They had messy dark hair, glasses that were bigger and rounder than what Walburga wore, and a smile that made Sirius’s heart thump loudly in his chest. Or maybe that was the panic. He didn’t get up from the floor, just propped his head up with one arm, the other lying nonchalantly across his satchel. “So it’s a person up here. Huh.”

Sirius swallowed, and tried to sound strong when he said, “What are you doing here?”

The man shrugged. “I saw a tower in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and wanted to investigate. I’m James, by the way.”

“Sirius.” It was only after he’d responded that he thought maybe he shouldn’t have given his name. If even a quarter of what Walburga told him was true…

“Like the star?” James asked, sounding innocently curious.

He nodded.

“That would explain the white hair, at least,” James said, but he was quiet enough that Sirius guessed he said it for his own benefit.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius repeated.

James raised an eyebrow. “I already told you.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him. “No one else has seen this tower and decided to climb up. So what. Are. You. Doing. Here.”

James’s smile finally dropped, but it didn’t make Sirius feel any better. It took another twenty minutes-- twenty precious minutes that Sirius should have been using to escape-- for James to admit that he’d stolen a crown from the royal family. He was standing by that point, and had shrugged when Sirius asked why. “They have more than enough money to replace it, it’s not hurting anyone, and it’s helping me. What’s wrong with that?”

“It- it’s _stealing_.” Of course Sirius had stolen it from him for leverage when he turned his back, but did it count as a crime to steal a stolen item from a thief?

James rolled his eyes. “You won’t get me to feel bad about stealing from the richest people in the city, Sirius.”

Sirius chewed on his lip as he thought. James seemed very self-sufficient, and Sirius wasn’t in a hurry to leave the tower to die. He also didn’t want to partner with a criminal, but. “Do you… do that often?”

“Not feel bad? All the time.” He grinned at Sirius, unbothered when Sirius didn’t return it.

“Steal.”

“No,” James said, honest as far as Sirius could tell.

Sirius straightened, projecting confidence. “Alright. Take me with you, and I’ll give you back your satchel.” The one with the crown, that is, Sirius had left his other one alone.

“What?” James looked around frantically, eyes resting where the satchel had once lain. He looked back at Sirius, a strange look on his face. “When did you take it?”

Sirius glared at him. “Yes or no, James.”

“Why do you want to come with me? You clearly think I’m a tosser.” When Sirius didn’t say anything, just continued to glare, James held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, you can come with me.” He held out his hand for his satchel, but Sirius breezed past him.

“You’ll get it back when you’ve kept your end of the deal. What? Don’t you trust me?”

A smile slowly made its way across his face, and it struck Sirius that this was probably the first real smile he’d seen from James.

* * *

“Why do you keep your hair so long?” James asked one day. They had long since become friends, the crown traded a week after they set out from the tower (though James insisted it was sold not traded).

Sirius blinked. It had never occurred to him that he _could_ cut it, and he said so.

“...You didn’t know you could cut your hair,” James repeated slowly.

“I grew up completely isolated. If Walburga didn’t do it, I don’t know about it. She never talked about cutting my hair. I think she liked it long because it was easier to access magically.”

“She’s a strange one, your mother,” he agreed, but there was something in his face that Sirius couldn’t identify. “Do you like your hair this long? Remus cuts Lily’s hair, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Sirius brought his braid in front of him and ran his fingers over the complex weave. “I think I like it like this. Walburga did a few things I wasn’t fond of, but. I don’t think this is one of them.”

James shrugged and put an arm around his shoulders. “Okay.” He kissed Sirius’s cheek, causing a full body flush, but he didn’t act as if he knew. “The hair stays.”

* * *

Months later, Sirius was happier than he knew he could be. He and James were together, although that had taken more than a few explanations before anything happened. He had been right when he said he would give up cleanliness for freedom. Sure, his white hair had dirt in it more often than not, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t worry about Walburga finding him and forcing him back because it had been so long that he-- foolishly-- thought it wouldn’t happen.

He was along the outskirts of Hogsmeade when it happened. Walburga threw him against a wall with her magic, her face twisted with anger as she stalked up to him.

Sirius scrabbled at the hand she had placed around his throat, but it didn’t affect her.

“You’re _mine_ ,” she spat. “I made you, inside and out, and you cannot leave me for some filthy gutter rat.”

“Sirius?” Shit. _James_.

“No,” he choked out, panicking when Walburga let go of him to turn towards James. Sirius distantly noticed that she looked older than she ever had before, but then all he could see was her stabbing James.

The only reason he knows he screamed is because it tore through his already damaged throat. Maybe it was the fear, more probably it was the tears, but the rest of the ordeal passed in a blur. He remembered begging Walburga to let him heal James and in exchange he’d go with her, remembered kneeling next to him while he bled, promising that it would be okay.

He definitely remembered the way James had smiled sadly, then gripped the base of Sirius’s braid and _cut_ before Sirius could heal him.

Walburga was barely a blip on his radar even though she screamed and sort of, well, disintegrated.

“You idiot,” he said, eyes wide. “You _bloody_ idiot.”

James gave him a half smile. “Well I am bloody. Sorry about your hair; I know you liked it long.” Clumsily, he raised a hand and twisted his finger through a strand of Sirius’s hair, which was now loose and hanging around his face. “It looks better black.”

“I don’t care! You were going to be okay and now, _because you’re an imbecile_ -”

“-Now you’ll be just fine without me because you’ll have Remus and Peter and Lily.” James moved his hand from Sirius’s hair to his face and started to rub at his cheek.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me? I don’t need Remus an--” he stopped when he heard James gasp. His wound was glowing with a very familiar white light.

“...So apparently you have magic tears since your hair retired.”

“You don’t get to say shite for the next three years after what you just did.”

“What? Come on, I’m alive, you’re here, and she’s- dead or summat, shouldn’t I get points for that?”

Sirius glared at him and slapped a hand over his mouth. “No.” But because Sirius was unspeakably happy that he _was_ alive, he removed his hand and kissed him. “Don’t do that again.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a prompt driven blog at [imaginejamesandsirius](https://imaginejamesandsirius.tumblr.com) on tumblr! Drop by, send in a prompt if you want ;)


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